Terveisin, Tuntematon Potilas
by NEZUMIso-soup
Summary: Based on Tuntematon Potilas by Arttu Wiskari, this is a RusFinSpa fic. Please read and review, I need opinons on how well I wrote Spain. T for death. Dedicated to PianoIsLove! :D


**Terveisin,  
>Tuntematon Potilas<strong>

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><p><em><strong>Kuule mun toive, mä haluan pois!<strong>_

_Aaah..._

The man gratefully let his knees bend, and with no energy left to care about grace, dumped himself onto a bench. It was freezing outside, but the man welcomed it. He was feverishly hot from running, and sweat dripped down on his large nose from underneath his silver hair. He knew he would probably catch a cold from this, and he'd be scolded by Dr Yao for running away.  
>He didn't care. He didn't want to go back to that room; the mere thought of it sent chills down his spine, and it got even harder to breathe. Trying hard not to panic, he clutched at his throat; his breath gradually changing from gasps and coughs to slight wheezing. He bended over, head between his knees, and fought to hold back the tears. '<em>I'm not going mad', <em>he tried to convince himself. '_How could I be? Surely I would notice if I did?'_ Sitting up ever so slightly he brought his hands closer to his face for inspection.

Oh, but he had noticed. The looks his sisters had given him when he let slip something weird; even Natalja, who had been so clingy and adamant in her dreams of marrying him, had started giving him those looks that Yekaterina had been trying to hide from him for so long already.

He wondered when his friends had left him. _'They probably stopped being my friends long before they dared leave,' _he realized.

'_When did I get left behind?'_

_**Eikö aikani täynnä jo ois?**_

Tino gratefully wound the thick, woolly scarf snugly around his neck and lower face. The petit blond man thanked the weather gods for holding back on the snow; it was something he usually enjoyed, but in the city the snow quickly turned into a grey slush that always seeped through the shoes or boots, encouraging the winter cold to try it's best to freeze your toes off.  
>Tino smiled a little into the scarf. It had been a gift from Antonio. At first, the Spaniard had told him, he had tried to knit one himself, but that had resulted in a terrible mess that looked more like something a cat had been let loose upon than a scarf. So in the end Antonio had given up and simply walked into Hennes &amp; Mauritz, since there was a sale.<br>Tino didn't mind, though. There had been no reason for Antonio to give him anything at all; it hadn't been his birthday, or any other special occasion.

"_Ah, it brings out the colour of your eyes! I'm so glad it actually suits you! So cute…"_

Tino felt his cheeks flush as he remembered his boyfriend's cheery face. The Finn wasn't very good at receiving compliments about his appearance.  
>To begin with, he was a bit complexed about his height. By continental measure he wasn't short, but in Finland he would always be looked down upon. There were no ill intentions, of course, the others were simply taller, but it stressed him a little.<br>And then there had been his first boyfriend, Berwald. Not only had he rarely remarked on anything about Tino, he had been a man of few words overall. Tino did think there had been love between them, but they had simply grown apart.  
>Mostly because of Ivan. Tino had been pulled in by Ivan's childishly happy – and, quite frankly, cute – smile and gentle words. That they had several friends in common had also helped. Berwald, however, had not approved of Ivan in the least, and had silently walked away as Tino spent more time with his other friends, claiming something about Ivan made the Swede ill at ease.<p>

'_And he was right all along,'_ Tino thought, and was a little surprised to find that he held no bitterness, only sadness.

It had started with Raivis. As the youngest in the group, he had been easy for Ivan to get to. Then it was Feliks, whom Ivan liked the least, and Toris, because he tried to defend Raivis and Feliks. At this point the mood in the group had turned sour, and the only thing that kept Eduard from leaving was his worry for the others – Raivis and Toris were like his brothers – and so he resigned himself to Ivan's bullying.  
>But Ivan never laid hand on Tino until the day Tino told the Russian that he was moving away from the countryside to the city. <em>'It was a long stay at the hospital.'<em>

Tino turned in to the road leading through the park. The trees had shed their leaves; they covered the ground like a thick and soggy blanket and made the whole area look brown and dull. The pebbles crunched under Tino's feet.

Ivan had strung together many sweet-sounding words, but somehow they had never sounded sincere. Antonio, on the other hand, tended to be honest to the verge of stupidity. It was very endearing.

Tino was roused from his musings as he noticed a change of colour in the corner of his eye. A silver-haired old man with appallingly light clothing sat hunched on a bench. His whole body seamed to be shaking with coughs and heavy breathing.  
>Tino broke into a jog, quickly reducing the distance to the bench. What if the old man needed an ambulance?<p>

"Hey, are you okay?" Tino called to the stranger, who looked up. Purple eyes locked onto his violet and his breath caught.

The man was not old, nor a stranger. It was Ivan.

_**Olen jo nähnyt tämän elämän,**_

"Ivan!" Ivan saw the Finn's eyes widen in shock.

"T-Tino?" What was he going to do? Ivan chewed on his lip. Truth be told, he was starting to get chilled, like he knew from the beginning that he would, but he didn't feel like going back to Dr Yao. Tino might very well send him there, depending on how much the Finn knew about Ivan's current… situation.  
>Ivan watched as Tino's facial expression changed rapidly from worried and thoughtful to resolve.<p>

"Ivan," Tino started, and Ivan tensed, ready to run if need be. "You can't stay out here. It's minus ten degrees and you're not even wearing a jacket." Ivan looked down. Tino was going to send him to the doctor. Well, he had known from the beginning. Why was he disappointed?

"I don't live very far from here. Tonio got some weird kinds of tea yesterday; you could help us decide which are actually worth drinking."

Ivan's head snapped up, and he stared in disbelief at the little man in front of him. Tino was inviting him in? After all Ivan had done?

Tino chuckled, seeming to guess the Russian's thoughts.

"That was long ago, Ivan. And there are some things I'd like to straighten out, if you don't mind."

"Ah… Thank you." Ivan got up from the bench; growing taller than the Finn. Tino took off the scarf and handed it out to Ivan.

"You seem to need it more than me."

_**Kaiken sain ja vielä enemmän.**_

The Spaniard was in a curious position. Due to a lack of affection from his boyfriend for over eight hours, his reserve of energy had been depleted, and the left side of his face was plastered on the kitchen table. Through the wavy, brown hair that had fallen in front of his face he peeked out the window, watching the snow accumulate outside on the streets.

_Tino, where are you?_

In reality, the Finn wasn't late; it would have been surprising if he'd already shown up. But Antonio didn't care. He wanted to hug the little blond tight, tight, and take in his scent.

A movement outside that did not correspond to the gently falling snowflakes' made Antonio look up, and he saw his beloved person outside, tredding carefully over an icy patch that Antonio always forgot and had made him slip and fall countless times.

"_I seem to have fallen for you again!" _he'd joked, and Tino had laughed and turned delightfully red.

Antonio bolted up from the chair, and ran to the hall, where he stepped into a pair of red, fur-lined crocs and raced down the stairs, dangerously close to slipping every time he skipped one or two steps.

Tino was home!

Ivan fiddled with the scarf he wore in the same fashion as Tino had, and was glad he did. It wasn't until the scarf had started warming him up that he realized how cold he actually was; and he looked forward to drinking something warm, with Tino and 'Tonio'.

_I wonder who this 'Tonio' person is…_ Ivan opened his mouth many times to ask, but no sound came over his lips. Was he afraid of the answer? Ivan's brow furrowed, and he unconsciously slowed down his pace while thinking, ending up a few steps after Tino.  
>Suddenly, a door exploded open, bouncing back and almost hitting the man stumbling out of the apartment complex.<p>

"**Tinooooo - !"**

Tino was almost knocked to the ground by this over-enthusiastic man, whom Ivan decided was most-probably-not-very-trustworthy, upon which he was pulled into what looked like a bone-crushing hug.

"I missed you sooo much!" the man continued with a distinctly Spanish accent. Tino pushed him away just enough to be able to breathe and speak.

"Tonio," he said, gasping for breath but smiling nonetheless, "I brought someone along."

'Tonio' looked up, and seemed to notice Ivan for the very first time. After the initially bewildered expression the Spaniard smiled warmly in greeting, and Tino introduced them.

"Ivan, this is Antonio Fernandez Carriedo." Ivan stepped forwards and shook Antonio's outstretched hand. " Tonio, this is Ivan Braginski."

"What? The one that - ?"

"Yes," Tino cut him off hurriedly, apparently not wanting Ivan to hear the rest of that sentence. "I found him in the park dressed like that, minus scarf. (Antonio's eyes widened in shock.) I figured he could help us diminish that atrocious amount of tea you got from Alfred."

Ivan couldn't help but be a little amazed at how many new acquaintances Tino had acquired; Ivan remembered Tino as someone shy who would mostly cling to Eduard and Berwald, the few times Ivan and Berwald had actually met.

The Spaniard had adopted a worried expression at the mention of Ivan's name, but now it switched again to a care-free smile.

"You're in luck, dear Ivan!" he exclaimed, "For I have also just received some cakes and chocolates from Belle!" (Ivan didn't know who this was, either)

"You did?" Tino said happily. "I hope you thanked her for the last time too; really, she is too sweet! Let's go inside and prepare the party, then!"

Ivan ended up surprising himself by enjoying the impromptu tea party, though the way that Antonio clung to Tino all the time as they sat on the bench opposite him annoyed him, and some of the tea-types – one blend per mug-with-funny-print (there were about a dozen spread out over the table) – tasted terrible.  
>He couldn't complain about the warm blankets and cakes though, and it had been very nice of Tino to invite him. This way Dr Yao wouldn't be able to find Ivan for a while, and Ivan wouldn't have to return to that room this evening. <em>Preferably not even this night, <em>Ivan added hopefully in his thoughts, nibbling a little on a warm, chocolate-coated cookie.

Tino made the most adorable face when tasting a tea called 'Blue Berries Remix' (seriously, who named these things?) from a mug with a happy Moomin-motive, spluttering 'it's disgusting!' (Ivan had just tried it, it really was disgusting. This 'Happy Herb' blend was rather nice, though.)

Antonio seemed to share Ivan's opinion that Tino was adorable, for he immediately pulled Tino closer and kissed him. He quickly pulled away, though, and laughed.

"You're right, that blend really was horrible!"

Tino picked up a newspaper and swatted Antonio on the arm, blushing furiously. Antonio only laughed louder and pulled Tino closer, taking the newspaper and throwing it away, out of the Finn's reach.

Ivan watched them longingly. He also wanted to have someone to hug like that, to tease and love.

Or, more precisely, he wanted the Finn opposite him to love him back. Jealousy bubbled up like black tar in his stomach, and warmed him more in an instant than the blankets, tea and cakes had done in two hours. Whether it was a pleasant warmth or not was debatable, but it purged the last of the coldness that had lingered in his limbs definitely.

Ivan placed the mug down on the table slowly, and then stood up, tripping on the blanket before managing to untangle himself. It was time to leave, before he did something he'd regret. He had a feeling that this black, bubbling tar was going to ruin something either inside of him, or something around him. If he had the right to choose, he'd like to choose the first alternative.

"Where are you going?" The Spaniards voice said behind him.

Ivan stopped, but didn't turn around. The tar rose up his throat, making his voice sound funny as he answered.

"…Home." A lie.

"At this hour? There are no buses or trains anymore. The city is practically dead at this time."

Just minutes before this was the answer he would have hoped for, but now hiding out at their apartment had become impossible. He had to leave.

"Ivan!" Tino's voice made him loose a bit of resolve. Not good.

He walked out to the hall and put on his soggy trainers. On a whim he pulled the scarf from its peg on the wall, and ran down the stairs.

"IVAN!"

_**Kuule mun toive, mä haluan pois !**_

And then it was a _reprise_ of the flight from the clinic, only this time, it was in the opposite direction, and Ivan had one piece of clothing that would keep him somewhat warm, and he also had a destination to arrive to. He'd return to that room. When he'd heard Tino call his name that second time, the tar had risen to his head, and if someone had been close, he'd probably have been hurt. In that room he couldn't hurt anyone, they'd all be safe.

Before he even came so far as to the park where Tino had first found him, a familiar face appeared, illuminated by the street lighting. The Chinese man was walking slowly, looking around himself carefully.

_Looking for me._

This time, he wasn't afraid though.

"Dr Yao!"

The doctor turned around, and smiled.

"Thank God, aru! I was afraid I'd never find you!" He ran up to Ivan, and eyed him critically, no doubt analyzing every crease in his clothing. "Where'd you get that scarf?"

_Sharp as always._

"It was a gift from an old friend."

The Chinese eyed him skeptically.

"…Huh. Well, are you coming back calmly this time, aru, or do I have to call Natalja?"

Ivan smiled.

"I'll come calmly."

_**Eikö aikani täynnä jo ois?**_

He couldn't breathe. Strangely, it was a good feeling. The white walls around him faded to light grey, dark grey, black.

_I'd want to leave like a soldier.__**  
>Tahtoisin lähteä kuin sotilas.<strong>_

__Sincerely, the unknown patient  
><em><strong>Terveisin, tuntematon potilas<strong>_

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><p><em>OMG, I'm so sad writing this! ;A;<em>

_In case you couldn't tell, Ivan died in the end. I won't specify how though, it's up to you guys to interpret freely. This is my longest one-shot so far, 2545 words, six pages in Word! And I wrote about half of it tonight! I'm on fire! XD_

_Anyways, this is sort of a warm-up for me, because I want to write some SpaFin! :D If I get comfortable enough writing Spain, I might even try some Spamano. ;)_

_Please review, I need to know if I went over the top with this one! Especially with all the alitteration towards the last chunks, lol._


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